


Sweet Deal.

by impracticallyperfect (whynotfour)



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Criminal AU, F/M, Law AU, Lawyer!Shawn, shawn mendes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 11:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotfour/pseuds/impracticallyperfect
Summary: Shawn Mendes is a senior partner at a top law firm and can't wait to oust the competition especially if she is on his team.





	1. Chapter 1

Tuesday morning washes over the city like a Polaroid being shaken to light, golden colours framing skyscrapers and breathing life into the city he calls home. Coffee competes with the Armani fragrance heavy on his collar, freshly starched shirt fitting his form like the pen that balances between his teeth. Fresh pastries sit untouched in the centre of the table like IEDs and his juniors fidget uncomfortably as they wait for someone to take the first bite.

Early meetings always shake the firm up; have senior executives as desperate for blood as the naive new associates that he’s added to the books.

One of three managing partners its Shawn’s job to lead team huddles such as these and Michael’s lack of interest is evident in the way his glasses slide down the length of his nose when he slumps against the table. It’s common knowledge that he’ll be shuffling off of the board before the quarter’s end, sexual harassment lawsuits and bogus expenses going with him. Law is an old boys club but at least Shawn is invested in bringing their company into the twenty-first century.

“We go straight for the jugular,” his protégée is boasting as she places a copy of the latest depositions against the conference table with a firm hand. “Give them the mistress as a suspect and it will throw out the son.”

“What about the weapon?” he finds himself asking in a voice cloaked with interest, watching the way she squirms when he throws her off the pitch. “It’s covered in his prints after all.”

Shawn doesn’t care enough to listen to her answer of touch DNA, smirking at the way the other members of council laugh at her knock in confidence as she stumbles over the response. He focuses on Sam in particular, the head of family law, and how he flinches at his girlfriend’s embarrassment - telling himself that that is what you get for mixing business with pleasure. The expensive cut of his suit silences the vibration of his phone on his thigh, a third buzz indicating a second party’s impatience at being made to wait for Shawn’s attention.

“I’ll let you think about why he would have need to touch the gun if his intent wasn’t to kill then shall I? Jones you can take pro bono for the week - no more than eighty billable hours please - Sam can be your second chair and use Tanya to investigate,” he pushes back on his chair with enough energy to stir Michael from his slumber and spins towards the window to cast his eye over the screen without worrying about scrutiny. “Everyone else, I expect you to update me on your cases by the end of play. If you think you’re working hard enough then double it! I don’t want anyone left standing here by the end of the week - I expect you all on your knees.”

Shawn misses the team’s mutual glares of displeasure burning into his back while he grins at the lines that blur together like a kid in love.

“Dismissed,” a wave of his hand has them cluttering for papers, Bluetooth headsets reactivated as they push away from the conference room back to their desks so he can turn back to pleasure rather than business.

‘About that merger,’ the first one reads in the same suggestive tone that still echoes in his mind like the hand that he pictures wrapping tight around his cock. ’I think we should talk. Your office, now.’

‘I’m growing impatient, Mr Mendes.’

The latest picture message makes Shawn throb beneath the tightness of his slacks, aching to slide between the thickness of her thighs to push down the underwear that pools around her calves. Red soled shoes colour the shine of mahogany sweetly, heavy shadows cast over the impersonal artefacts that cover his desktop. He thinks about his tongue chasing up the 31″ inches of skin and the pretty picture that would create, a wet trail pushing towards the heat that he knows to be pooling between them.

But still he waits before responding. Sex, like law, is just a game of power.

“Great show this morning,” Michael states from beside him, clinging onto the tabletop like its the only thing helping to keep him upright.

“Thanks, Mikey. Couldn’t do it without you,” Shawn plays the role of a gentleman like it’s second nature, handshake strong against Michael’s frail grip. “I really do need to go though. I’ve got that meeting we discussed.”

“That woman associate?”

“The merger with an experienced firm-” he chooses his words carefully and bites his cheek to block out what he really wants to say, facts shaken away by an aged fist that pushes away the promise of the future for some outdated sexist view.

“She’s still a woman, Shawn. Be careful or she’ll drag us all down.”

“I promise I will, Michael,” the jacket shrugs onto his shoulders easily, the bitter laughter of the older man digging into his flesh so sharply that he almost drops the call he’s dialling in favour of a fistfight..

“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” the pout in her voice is as evident as her heels against the office flooring, the hustle of the 28th floor a dull soundtrack compared to the way she sings the comment.

“I’m taking you for lunch,” he states rather than asks weaving his way through the throng of lawyers still talking about their cases in the corridor despite his public disapproval of such practice. Shawn lowers his tone only to speak the last part of his demand with such dominance that it shoots right to her core. “Don’t worry about getting comfortable with the dampness of that underwear though. You won’t be keeping them on for long anyway, sweetheart.”

Shawn ends the call with a click of his thumb, Italian leather colliding with marble as he calls for a lift and slips the iPhone into his pocket.

“Mr Mendes, I have the prosecutors office on the phone for you,” his assistant calls from down the walk way, her headset glowing to signify a held call as she chases him. “They want to know if you’ll meet to settle a plea on the Hendricks case. Shall I arrange for them to come here?”

“No thank you, Belinda. Tell them I am currently unavailable for contact.”

“But Mr Mendes-” her protests steal the attention of the team around them, eyes shooting up from paperwork to their bosses retreating frame.

“Hold my calls! Say it’s a family emergency,” Shawn instructs with a smile that suggests it’s the furthest thing from the truth, his focus turning with the twist of his foot. “Tell them I’ll be out of the office all day.”

A ding punctuates Shawn’s sentence as it reaches his floor, back turning to the audience of his employees when he hears the familiarity of her laugh mixed with that of his top client. Red nails block the doors from closing, artificial lights of the elevator dancing off of the smooth skin of her legs while the black shine of her pumps reflects the navy silhouette of his own suit when he joins her in the small metallic box.

"Something tells me this may take a while."


	2. Chapter 2

The news of Shawn’s move takes just under an hour to reach the press, a commentary provided from behind the ivory towers of SMC after months of unconfirmed rumbles. The subject of the firm’s strength has been in question since last summer with the scandal of one, Charles – Charlie – Buckley filling the tabloids and draining the company’s assets.

It was no secret that Buckley’s divorce had been messy, robbing the business of finance, resource and reputation. Cheating had been cited as the reason for the marriage’s termination but failure to settle had turned the affair into a media circus with claims of corruption banded around by the wife drawing in reporters like hounds. Once it was discovered that he was obtaining documents illegally and bribing witnesses on the stand it soon became clear that Charlie would be taking the staff to trial with him. He had nearly cost them everything before his sabbatical was suggested.

Nine months and if the company was still standing he would be signing over his clients to Shawn and Michael before exiting through the back door and officially vacating the business. Or at least that was the plan he had signed to on paper…

Ironically that was how the two met with Shawn on the stand as the new prosecutor brought his firm to its knees. On the first day of court she had convinced the jury of Michael’s compliance and if the judge hadn’t overruled their verdict he would have been the sole surviving partner. He had thanked the lawyer for that with his tongue after the trial had ended and his integrity was the sole survivor. In return her client, that state, had settled out of chambers before a prison sentence could be levied and SMC had used the best publicist in the business to plaster over the cracks on her recommendation. She had even helped secure them a discount after a rather intense phone call to a friend.

“Brave move,” she comments as they sink from view, a flurry of messages sent through the office before they even make the garage. “A plea deal would have saved the firm’s image - you know this medical case is going to trash you. It’s high publicity.”

“And when I take down the prosecution I’ll be a hero.”

“Public enemy number one once the accusations of medical negligence hit the front page. You might not escape this,” she warns as Shawn holds the elevator doors for them to exit at basement level. “I’m not sure if you want to.”

Laughter peels from his lips like the accusation is hilarious and the side-eye that pierces through his profile is enough to make it fade. The car-keys leave his jacket pocket before his response and the plaque reading his title shines under the florescent lights as brightly as the day it was installed. Blacked out windows shimmer with their reflections while their footsteps echo around the vacant space, chivalry has him open the door to the passenger’s side and independence has her kiss away the smirk on his lips.

“I’m not going to be easy to buy.”

“But you’ll be easy in other capacities?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know?” she chimes back sinking into the leather of the Audi with the intentional flash of her thighs and absence of underwear. “Did you make reservations?”

“I don’t need to,” self-assured the door closes behind Shawn and his lip slides between his teeth at the thought of the engines purr reverberating against the bare skin of her body when he crosses the lot.

Navy fabric slides easily between the door and driver’s seat, effortless motion setting him up for his proposal before they even drive away. Shawn’s fingers flex around the wheel before he starts the ignition and hers move over his clothed thigh just as the key twists. The engine splutters as his foot slides around the clutch, gear stick covered with the firm grip of his palm as he selects first. Sex isn’t out of the question and he would pay to see her pushed against the centre console having her sweat stain the interior as she takes him the way that her body has before. Shawn’s mind runs away with the image of clammy, dirty sex steaming up the windows and her screams pouring through the garage. Her riding him as he moans her name, letting the glares of using junior associates set her skin alight as he spirals towards his orgasm. 

The thought alone is stirring enough to consider keeping on the handbrake and pushing his chair back just enough to take her in his lap knowing that she always fits him so well.

“I’m going to make you come so hard.”

“To my senses?” Shawn replies as she laughs at the comment that keeps it fitting to their previous conversation.

“Amongst other things,” her hand crawls higher up his leg and Shawn groans as she ghosts it across his crotch in that guttural tone that makes her chest tighten. “If you want to talk business I can put my underwear back on.”

The impact of a name slipped to a maître d’ no longer shocks her, the wine menu excused as she orders their usual vintage without thought for the price tag. It’s not even lunch time but the familiar clients cause no conflict when they order off of the full menu rather than breakfast, their bill in excess of other patrons combined. Client meetings are never in such exclusive venues and she doubts that Shawn usually brings other consultants to backrooms like this. He has promised that pleasure won’t overshadow business but when her blouse is threatening to split with every motion of her wrist it’s hard to think of anything but. 

“What looks good to you?” the menu balanced between her manicured fingers twitches like the smile on her lips as she lets one hand free from the laminate to reach for the button on her shirt, popping it open until Shawn knows that she’s trapping him into revealing his intentions.

“I’m thinking the lobster.”

“I always prefer meat,” she quips back suggestively, beckoning the waiter over with a playful smirk as her heels click to land on the floor and her bare foot presses against the base of his trouser leg. “I think I’ll take the steak.”

Shawn can barely think of the order he places when she bends closer, pretending to read his dish off of the menu as she exposes the delicacy of her bra. The visual stimulation is a distraction in itself, lace decorating the soft swell of her breasts as she attempts to put him off of the follow-up questions and the touch of her skin works its way higher. Firm strokes of her sole cause his words to catch in his throat and she levels her eyes on his as she asks just loud enough for the waiter to hear…

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart? You look a little flushed.”


End file.
